


This Is What You Do

by kaathefriendlysnekk



Series: Chain The Fox [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Gun Violence, Held at Gunpoint, Implied Violence, M/M, Organized Crime, Sexual Tension, Whumptober 2020, forced to their knees, manhandled
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:21:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27013417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaathefriendlysnekk/pseuds/kaathefriendlysnekk
Summary: Being Atsumu’s brother is difficult. While Tsumu gets to be wild, Samu tends to mind his own business at the shop. Tsumu has a greater price on his head, so he lives recklessly, treating every day as his last. Samu does not mind it in particular as he usually tinkers around his shop to his heart’s content.But sometimes, just sometimes, Samu wants to be at the edge of the cliff Tsumu faces every day. He knows it’s anything near a luxury for his brother who would throw himself off the cliff without a second thought if it would mean Samu’s safety. But Samu just wants to stand there once and feel the thrill of the blizzard-like wind hit his face.Especially so, if the wind was named Akaashi.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Miya Osamu, Miya Atsumu/Tsukishima Kei
Series: Chain The Fox [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1963645
Kudos: 17
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	This Is What You Do

**Author's Note:**

> For the Whumptober 2020 prompts of Day 3: Forced to their knee, held at gunpoint.  
> I also used the theme of day 2 "pick who dies".

Tsukishima peeks at Atsumu from under his cowl.

“Pick one. Else your brother dies.”

Atsumu can’t utter a single word in reply. He has killed before without asking why. He has been given orders and he has followed them through. Never before has he been required to play the judge.

Over his shoulder, Tsukishima gives Akaashi a look, who, right on cue, yanks back Osamu’s hair exposing his neck. With a flick of his wrist, a flip knife comes alive and the serrated edge of the curved blade rests against Osamu’s skin.

Atsumu is screaming, his throat feels raw but no sound comes out of him. Osamu is shivering, his teeth chattering can be heard from where Atsumu lies helpless.

~~

Osamu wondered why his brother had suddenly disappeared from the face of the earth. Although such disappearances were common in his line of work, Osamu couldn’t help but worry about his twin’s safety. As much as he would like to say that at least one of them made an honest living, having a brother with yakuza links helps him secure the best facilities wherever he goes. So even if he had to move every now and then thanks to his brother’s notorious activities, Osamu didn’t exactly complain beyond their playful banter. 

“Hi.” A soft and quiet voice rang right at the base of his ear and with a jerk Osamu was pulled out of his swirling thoughts. The intrusion was so unexpected that in his surprise, he had dropped the handful of rice and fillings he had been rolling together to give it a definite shape.

“I’m sorry!” The man before him had been quick to apologize, stooping down behind the counter where Osamu worked and quite dramatically, their eyes met when they tried to clean the same patch of floor where the rice had been spilled.

The curly black-haired beauty before him was none other than, “Akaashi?”

His face broke out into the most breathtaking grin as he said, “Found you.” 

Something in that voice made Osamu want Akaashi to find his way in his arms night after night. It’s been only a few days since Tsumu had relocated Osamu but he’d be lying if he said that he hadn’t wanted anyone to find him. Especially someone that looked as respectable and delectable as the man before him.

If only he could seal this deal, then maybe, maybe his brother would have one less life to worry about. 

Osamu held the gaze and stood up with Akaashi mirroring his actions. He smiled his best professional smile so as to not come across as too sappy right from the start. 

“Welcome back to Onigiri Tanaka.” Of course he went for one of the most common last names when naming his shop. It would be stupid to use the name “Miya” so openly after the time Atsumu almost got caught by the police. Then there was Atsumu’s boss - always in the habit of dragging in trouble into people’s lives whenever they got involved with him. Atsumu wanted at least one of the Miyas to be safe and it was too much of a close call to hope the similarities would go unnoticed.

Akaashi picked up the wet rag without any hesitation and wiped the floor clean as best as he could, having insisted on helping in spite of Osamu’s protests. The two of them cleaned up at the sink. The domesticity of it made Osamu bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling any more than he needed to. Akaashi had wound up here trying to find him.  _ His onigiris _ . If he was getting all the signals correctly, this could be something Osamu would actually look forward to.

“What are you making now?” Akaashi asked wiping his hands on the paper towels Osamu gave him. 

“Just the one that sells out faster.” Osamu pointed at Akaashi’s attire, “For people like you who return from office at this hour.”

“I see,” Akaashi seemed to be holding back from trying to peer into the bowl Osamu was mixing the ingredients in. “So that’s the sea-chicken?”

“It’s the sea-chicken,” Osamu nods. “Tuna-Mayo.”

Akaashi’s eyes grew even brighter if possible, with the looming hint of a smile on his face. “I would like two now, please! And some more to take back home later.”

_ It stands true even after so many days _ , Osamu thought. Akaashi made Osamu feel  _ hungry _ for all the good reasons.

He was hungry to be regarded with those olive eyes, hungry to be tasted by the soft pink tongue that flicked out every now and then to wet Akaashi’s lips, hungry to run his fingers through the disheveled black curls until Akaashi was lulled to sleep or screaming from pleasure, hungry to taste every inch of skin the man would offer him.

Being Atsumu’s brother is difficult. While Tsumu gets to be wild, Samu tends to mind his own business at the shop. Tsumu has a greater price on his head, so he lives recklessly, treating every day as his last. Samu does not mind it in particular as he usually tinkers around his shop to his heart’s content. But sometimes, just sometimes, Samu wants to be at the edge of the cliff Tsumu faces every day. He knows it’s anything near a luxury for his brother who would throw himself off the cliff without a second thought if it would mean Samu’s safety. But Samu just wants to stand there once and feel the thrill of the blizzard-like wind hit his face.

Especially so, if the wind was named Akaashi.

So when Akaashi’s gaze started to linger on his skin longer than the initial fleeting glances from before, Osamu let himself smile a little wider and blush a bit redder. Akaashi hung back until Osamu bade farewell to the last customer. It was evident he wanted to talk about something private by the looks of it and Osamu’s imagination ran wild regarding what it could be about. Once he turned the close sign at the front door, Osamu moved to the backroom and proceeded to clean up. 

A few minutes later, the sound of feet approaching the backroom made him anxious - the kind that throws you in a frenzy. Slender arms marked with toned muscles wrapped themselves around Osamu's waist while he washed the utensils and Akaashi asked him, "Is this okay?"

Osamu hummed and nodded slightly, _More than okay._

Soft skin met his neck as he felt Akaashi rest his head there, his nose nuzzling the crook. Once Osamu was done with scrubbing the last of the utensils clean, Akaashi pushed him against the opposite wall. His finger traced Osamu's eyebrows, the bridge of his nose, a faint sound vibrating in his throat.

Akaashi hummed a  broken tune as he left feather-light touches on Osamu, who burned from just those whispers of skin on skin until the sound became the only thing he could hear. It was unfair of whichever force was up there to bless someone like Akaashi Keiji with both an angelic face and a trance-inducing voice. The soft voice invaded his muddled brain and Osamu felt the goosebumps rise with each short breath Akaashi drew in to continue.

The tune was not broken anymore - it sounded like a lullaby Osamu could safely fall asleep to. Akaashi’s lips hovered slightly above his and Osamu badly wanted to close the gap between them. But he was stuck in the limbo Akaashi had spun with his quiet but sweet voice paired with storm grey eyes with specks of green. 

Akaashi leaned in.

Osamu felt the waves of the ocean wash over him when his lips were engulfed in Akaashi’s warm ones. Everything about this man in front of him was so delicate, he was afraid to touch him, lest he would break him. The old fleecy sweater worn under layers of clothing for that added warmth on the harshest of winter nights - that was what Akaashi Keiji felt like. Worn out but snug.

Amidst the white noise that clouded his thoughts, Osamu swallowed thickly at the dread that curled up him at something hard and cold against his stomach.

_ A gun. _

“Are you done toying with him?” A calm and steady voice said from beside Osamu. He had been so preoccupied with Akaashi, he didn’t even hear them come in.

“The twins are dumb but they are indeed something,” Akaashi remarked without letting up in any manner. Osamu was trapped.

A figure clad in black all over, with only creamy, pale thighs on display swooped into his line of vision.

_ Think with yer other head s’times, Tsumu... the one where yer brain is _ : Osamu would tell his twin, not knowing that someday his own jibe would come back to bite him in the ass.

~~

“Your brother can sure pack a mean punch, Atsu,” Tsukki says as he touches the bruise under his eye. “But he can’t escape Keiji. That man was born to capture hearts and crush them under his feet.”

If Atsumu had not been looking at Osamu’s tear-stained, bruised face, bloodied lips and torn clothes wet and red with splotches of blood with a knife at his throat, he might have wondered about Tsukishima’s blatantly open praise of Akaashi. The blonde rarely found it in himself to compliment anyone so Akaashi had to be damn good at his job to have earned that. The Miya brothers tended to attract the worst of the worst.

“Choose.”

“But I don’t know -” Atsumu tries for one last time but is soon shut down by Kuroo.

“You don’t need to,” he says with a malicious grin. “This is what you do, Atsumu-kun. You murder people in cold blood without knowing for real if they are at fault. I make that choice for you. But now…” Kuroo drops a gun in his lap. “Make your own choice Atsumu-kun.”

_ It’s not fair _ , Atsumu thinks as he sees his brother straining in Akaashi’s hold to look back at him.

_ I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Tsumu. I should’ve been more careful _ , Osamu cries in his head.

“Do it, Atsu,” Tsukki purrs in a strange likeness to Kuroo. “You know the gun laws in Japan. Your prints will be all over it before you know it. If you don’t cooperate, the gun will be there by the side of not just one, but two corpses out on the road in the morning with crows pecking at their flesh.”

Kuroo walks up to the front of the room and takes the only seat in sight. Legs crossed on top of each other, chin supported on his right hand on the armrest, he sinks back in the plush golden cushions against the crimson backrest, to watch the show unfold before him. Two men are kneeling down at his feet on the floor. A blonde girl, Atsumu assumes her to be around Tsukishima’s age, walks into view from the shadows. Her short hair is held up on one side with a hair tie that has a blue star on top of it. She has large innocent eyes and with a pout on her face, she walks up to Kuroo, unbothered by the scenery of violence around her.

“Hitoka, so kind of you to join us,” Kuroo shifts and makes space for the girl who props herself on the armrest. The fierce look that passes in her eyes does not go unnoticed by Atsumu.

The men are stripped naked save for their loincloths. Atsumu catches a fleeting glance at one of their faces and instantly blurs his own vision voluntarily. The looks of helplessness and terror on them are the last thing he needs to see.

Atsumu’s fingers lick the familiar ridges of the gun, thumbing the safety catch. The certainty of the cold, hard, inhuman steel.

_ This is for Osamu. My brother Samu is in danger and I have to do that dirty work to help him out of this. _

Then why can’t he bring himself to look his brother in the eye?

There’s no need to look at anyone. Not his brother, not Tsukki or Akaashi or their cronies, not the men he is about to pass judgment on. He doesn’t need to look.

Atsumu points his gun straight up ahead, earning a smirk that spreads on Kuroo’s lips. One clear shot and he can end this for everyone. Kuroo was one of the top-level recruiters under the oyabun. Getting him would be akin to chopping off one-third of a tree’s trunk. He can feel all the eyes on him, gauging each of his movements.

“My my, I considered the possibility, Atsumu-kun, but didn’t expect you to have the gall. Such a brave man!”

A single tear escapes Atsumu’s eye as he lowers the gun a little to the side and it goes off.

**Author's Note:**

> I draw stuff on [tumblr](https://tumblr.com/blog/kaathefriendlysnekk) and yell at friends on [twitter](https://twitter.com/kaartwheels). Would love to yell together!


End file.
